


pbd

by ladydawn



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen, doc sung: origins?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 23:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10978002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydawn/pseuds/ladydawn
Summary: The beginning of Doc and his ship.kind of





	pbd

Doctor Sung had begun in a time before times, before anything was anything, and before anything was anything he had lost his family.

So now he floated through space, an appropriate name - this ever-expanding _space_ , its contents wildly scattering in all directions, if you could even call them directions. Hot, light dots sped past him. Quarks got in his eye.

The device in his pocket beeped.

He started to be transported through time.

The way it happened wasn’t that he walked through a portal, no. That would be too simple. His body would stiffen and became enveloped in an electric membrane, the new dots and darkness moved around him, and then he was in a new timeplace.

It made him sick sometimes, how quick the stars would whiz by.

He ended up on a planet in a system of eight others, and their home star. The star beat down on him, making his pores seep and his throat dry, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. A wind blew past and brought a modicum of relief but also brought coarse little granules to his eye. Worse than the quarks of the past.

He looked to his left and saw an amazing craft. Silver, shiny, reflecting in the starlight. He got up and ran to it. He placed his hand on the side; it was hot, but he could resist that.

“Interesting,” his voice cut the thick air, suspended for a moment, then the sound left as quickly as it came and he realized he was completely alone.

It appeared to be unowned - hopefully so, as it sat in the middle of nowhere. Doctor Sung looked left, looked right, looked all around, but all he saw was the brown flatness and then the rounded edge of the horizon.

He pushed the door open.

It looked to him that the last owner had been some sort of mechanic, as this craft held wires and gears, tools and metals. They were untouched for some time, though, as a thick layer of dust had accumulated on the apparatus.

Doc took a deep breath, blew off the dust, and collected the things he needed to make this craft spaceproof.

* * *

It had taken only two tries.

He couldn’t achieve liftoff with whatever engine was in the craft, literally sitting inside the craft, already. He took the little gadget off the front of the craft and put it inside, and then shoved the engine into the front. He ran and connected wires, tubing, anything necessary to get this thing up and running, and it still did not work. Try number one.

He outfitted the engine to include a warp drive and something he called absurd speed, and that seemed to do it.

Now he floated through space, but at least he floated in comfort.

The front had turned from a table and a couple benches to a definitive cockpit, with all the instruments he would need to calculate propulsion, thrust, and planetary atmospheres for landings.

Life support and antigravity material for fuel gauges went without saying, as well as thermal protection. A communications system was installed, and currently Doc sat with his feet up in an unused corner, listening to some music.

He found out from the other side of the craft that this thing was called AIRSTREAM, though he preferred to call it his craft. AIRSTREAM was still pretty damn cool, though.

He had put metal around the windows, and completely safetied the thing. He moved the table to the middle near the cabinets, and put up some chairs by the door. The back had become a bedspace.

While rummaging through the cupboards, he had found a stack of encyclopedias and a relatively new looking cassette titled IRON MAIDEN. It looked... wicked, and he was glad he’d kept the player that could host these. So now he listened to the thrashing metal and bobbed his head along to it, while looking at the planets the star hosted.

A red one, a blue one. One with rings and another one with rings, but the other way around.

He turned the craft around and got a good look at where he’d first ended up.

Now just a dot, he could make out the blues, greens, and whites of the orb. It looked almost peaceful, rotating quietly, revolving around its star slowly but surely.

He hoped that whenever he returned to this planet - this... pale blue dot - that it would still be in this system, strung in a line with the others, still bathing in that starbeam.

**Author's Note:**

> i've always written doc's little ship as a crappy little 1980s airstream.  
> the silver bullet.  
> thanks.


End file.
